


i wish to melt into you

by dollylux



Series: Fic Advent Calendar 2015: Siblings, Husbands, Lovely Ladies, and Other Miscreants [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Romantic Gestures, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:17:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5532275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean takes his love to see the Northern Lights. (<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/129525">Invisible Boy verse.</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wish to melt into you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Exaggerated_Specificity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exaggerated_Specificity/gifts).



> day twenty-four | prompt: freeze
> 
> i'm all kinds of behind on these. i have two more stories to post, hopefully one tonight (j2), and another this weekend (natwanda). this is my invisible boy babies, so i hope you enjoy<3

“Dean.”

Sam sounds so confused, so put out, that Dean actually stops halfway out of the car and settles back down inside, the tired vinyl bench squeaking under his ass. He meets his brother’s eyes across the dark, finding the shine of them. He keeps in a smile as best as he can.

“Hm?”

“Will you _please_ tell me what the hell we’re doing here? You drive us fifteen hours up to Buttfuck, Idaho, rent us a cabin, and then immediately get us back in the car? There’s not even anything up here! Seriously, there’s not a single car.” Sam motions around the parking lot alongside Priest Lake where snow is settled and frozen and not showing any signs of melting anytime soon. 

Dean smiles, can’t hold it in this time.

“I think there might be somebody up here. C’mon, Sammy. Just go with me on this, alright?”

Sam huffs out a tiny, exasperated sigh, always Dean’s little brother so much that it almost makes Dean gleeful.

“But Dean--”

Dean leans over across the seat and catches Sam’s mouth in the darkness, kissing him deep and sweet before pulling back just enough to breathe against his brother’s mouth, feeling the warm lines of spit connecting their lips.

“C’mon, baby brother,” he murmurs. He feels Sam nod, once and shaky and smiles as he presses their foreheads together for just a second.

Dean’s already got the trunk open by the time Sam collects himself and piles out of the car. He gathers up their two industrial strength sleeping bags, an armful of blankets, and a packed duffel. He hands Sam one of the sleeping bags and the duffel, and they trudge across the snow, Dean leading the way to one guy who is standing on a dock, bundled up, his breath visible from yards away.

“Dean Winchester?” the guy gruffs.

“You got ‘em,” Dean replies, reaching for the clipboard the guy is holding out for him.

“Sign here and here,” he says, pointing with a gloved finger. “Have her back before 8 am.”

“Got it.” Dean signs with a flourish and hands it all back over, giving the guy a nod and walking past him to the dock where a small motorboat is waiting. He steps onto it and lowers down near the motor, looking up at Sam who is standing uncertainly on the dock.

“I don’t. Um,” Sam stammers, hugging the sleeping bag to his chest and managing at six and a half feet tall to still look like a little boy. Dean smirks adoringly and stands up, lifting a hand for Sam to grab.

“Watch your step,” Dean tells him unnecessarily, holding on tight to Sam’s hand and his arm to help him down into the boat. A truck roars to life nearby, headlights shining bright, and then the guy is gone, leaving them in complete isolation.

Sam settles down at the head of the boat, still clutching the sleeping bag, his eyes on Dean.

“This isn’t some kind of romantic suicide pact thing, is it?”

Dean somehow manages not to laugh.

“...I thought that’s what you wanted for Christmas? Shit, I’m so bad at taking hints,” Dean sighs, lifting a foot to nudge at Sam’s leg before he starts the motor, letting it chug and sputter and then he heads them out into the water.

It’s near midnight a week before Christmas, and it feels like they’re the last two people on a frozen earth. Kalispell Island isn’t far from shore, a visible, black silhouette of trees against the incredible expanse of the sky. There are so many stars it’s overwhelming, and Dean keeps his eyes away from the sky, at least for now, concentrating on getting them safely to shore, on sidling up to the dock and stopping in away that won’t have Sam flying to the floor of the little boat.

Climbing out is uneventful, and Sam is shivering, his face frozen cold when he steps in close to Dean. 

“W-What’re… Dean, what are we--” he breathes in soft, visible puffs of air, his shoulders trembling in such a young way that it makes Dean ache, makes him set all his shit down and turn to Sam, cupping his face with his own gloved hands and pressing their faces together again, breathing heat across Sam’s skin.

“Shh,” he whispers, licking his lips before dropping kiss after kiss to Sam’s mouth, tasting winter there, tasting the quiet and the only-them and Sam’s unfaltering trust in him. “It’s okay, Sammy babe. I’ll get you warmed up soon. C’mon. Just a little bit further.”

The island is tiny and packed with campsites, and Dean holds everything in one arm just so he can hold his brother’s hand as they crunch through the snow to find the one he’d rented.

He finds the lot number and starts to unpack their little camp immediately, folding out the sleeping bags that zip together into one big one (which he of course takes the time to do), and he gets Sam tucked in next to him and covers them in blankets before digging through the duffel. He hands Sam two big Thermoses and then unfolds the two pillows he’d stolen from the cabin, nestling them in at the top of the bags.

“There,” he says finally with a sigh.

A beat, and then:

“...Dean?”

“Yeah?” He opens one of the Thermoses Sam’s holding and nods down at it, the smell of cooked meat and spices wafting up with the steam rising from it. “Beef stew. Smell it? Mm.”

“Look at me.”

Dean glances up at his brother, amazed to find tears glimmering in Sam’s eyes, to find that amount of softness on his face, that his chin is trembling. 

“Did you bring me up here to see the Northern Lights because you’re the most romantic guy in the whole entire world?” Sam is so close, still shivering from the cold, but it’s warming up inside of their self-heating blankets and from their shared body heat, and Dean somehow manages to blush even in the frigid temperatures.

“Well… not in the whole _entire_ world,” Dean mumbles, busying himself with pouring out a cupful of stew and handing it to Sam, wordlessly instructing him to eat. “I don’t have any grand gestures to make or any diamond rings hidden at the bottom of the stew or nothin’--”

“Damn,” Sam says softly with a grin, almost invisible except for the illumination of the nearly full moon and all the ancient starlight overhead.

“I just… I saw these once, driving up here with Dad while you were… while you were gone,” Dean starts, chest pulling tight at the reminder of Stanford even still. He thinks maybe it’ll always hurt. “And all I could think about was how much you’d love it. How I wanted to see you watching it.”

He pauses while Sam lifts his head to examine the sky, the lights that are just starting to seep in from behind the mountains, bright explosions of chartreuse green into hot pink and into the most startling of purples while the stars glitter on overhead, the crown on the whole production.

“Shoulda known I was in love with you, the way I always thought about you on nights like that,” he says, keeping his voice quiet, almost a hush. “Never wanted to share stuff like this with anybody else.”

Sam stays quiet, just nestles in even closer to Dean, tucking in under his arm as they curl up together. Sam takes a sip from the spicy stew and passes it over to Dean, and they share perhaps their one millionth meal together without a word between them while they watch the colors spread and dance across the sky in a show so beautiful it takes Dean’s breath.

“Can I tell you something?” he murmurs, breath warm against Sam’s cheek. The stew is gone and they’ve opened up the Thermos of heated Kahlúa and shared sips until they’re nearly warm. He feels Sam nod, feels him lower his face to nuzzle, the delicate jump of his nose sliding over Dean’s scruffy, tired cheek.

“Tell me,” he whispers against Dean’s skin.

“You remember the first time we kissed?”

Sam draws in a deep breath that tells Dean _yes_ , of course he does. He reaches out for Sam’s free hand not holding the little cup of hot liqueur and lets Sam fold their fingers together, just to have a point of contact.

“Course,” he finally breathes.

“Out in that field in Kansas in January? It was so cold you couldn’t stop shaking, and Sammy, God.” Dean closes his eyes to the aurora, to his brother, letting himself drift back to that night, to the first time he tasted the inside of Sam’s sweet mouth. “Nothing will ever be as beautiful to me as you were when I finally kissed you. And I swear, I _swear_ , when I kissed you, I tasted those lights up in the sky right now. I was there inside those Northern Lights I’d seen before. It was like a dream. I don’t know how or why it happened, but… I needed to share this with you. Just. Just to.”

His throat tightens up and he swallows past it, dragging his nose alongside Sam’s, their mouths close now. He can smell the salt of Sam’s tears.

“I needed to show you what I felt when I kissed you for the first time,” he finally gets out, his eyebrows drawn up tight together, his face tense with held-in emotion, and he can’t stop the almost hurt little sound that escapes when Sam gasps on a quiet sob and leans in to kiss him, pushing their hot mouths together in a kiss so deep, so devouring that it bruises their lips.

It’s an _I love you_ between their mouths, without words, and the secret Dean keeps tucked away for himself is that he still tastes the aurora in Sam’s mouth, every single time.


End file.
